


Sweet as Sin

by squadrickchestopher



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Blindfolds, Chocolate Sauce, Light Bondage, M/M, Oral Fixation, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-15 09:02:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29433570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/squadrickchestopher/pseuds/squadrickchestopher
Summary: Clint has an oral fixation. Bucky shows up to their third date with a bottle of chocolate sauce.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton
Comments: 23
Kudos: 91
Collections: 2021 Winterhawk Valentine's Day Exchange





	Sweet as Sin

**Author's Note:**

  * For [OriginalCeenote](https://archiveofourown.org/users/OriginalCeenote/gifts).



> a WH Valentine's Blind Date Exchange for originalceenote (who also wrote [this amazing fic for me](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28180677).) I'm SO happy I could give something lovely back to you!
> 
> I loved all of your prompts, but my brain went !!! on this one. I'm definitely gonna write the others later, though, they're way too fun to leave alone.

“ _Jesus_ ,” Bucky says, arching up against Clint’s mouth. Then he scowls down at him, or as much as he can while wearing a blindfold. “If you make a joke about not being Jesus---”

“You ruin all my fun,” Clint says, and Bucky can just imagine the smug look on his face. “Fine. No Jesus jokes.”

“Thank god,” Bucky says, or at least he starts to say. Clint’s mouth closes over his nipple, tongue swirling around the bud and sucking, and it comes out as a moan instead. Clint snickers, pulling off a moment later.

“I think there’s some hypocrisy in you saying that,” he says, “but I’m gonna let it slide.”

Bucky pants at the ceiling, unsure what words are for a moment. He’d kind of expected this to happen---hell, he’d _planned_ it to happen. He was the one who showed up at Clint’s door with a pizza in one hand and a bottle of chocolate sauce in the other. He’d spent the whole damm day in meetings with him, watching him chew on pen caps, the term _oral fixation_ floating around in his head the entire time.

“You okay?” Clint asks, and he sounds innocent, but Bucky’s sure he’s got a hell of a smirk.

“Fine,” he manages after a moment. “Just fine. Carry on.”

“Carry on,” Clint snorts, and then there’s warmth drizzling over his chest and stomach, followed a moment later by Clint’s tongue. Bucky shivers, wishing he could see this. It’s better without, honestly, but still. There’s a trade-off with the sensory anticipation versus being able to watch Clint do this. He’s sure it looks _incredible_.

“Clint,” he whines, as Clint’s chest brushes over his cock. “Please?”

“Oh, baby,” Clint says softly. “That desperate, huh?”

“I---yes?”

There’s a warm laugh, and then hands slipping up around his sides, curving over his ribs. “What do you want, huh?”

“I don’t know,” Bucky says, squirming under his touch. “Your mouth?”

“You’re getting my mouth, Buck. That was the whole point of this.” He traces his tongue over the curve of Bucky’s hip, gently nibbling at it.

“On my dick,” Bucky says. “Please.”

“Oh.” There’s more smugness, and Bucky has half a moment to think he should’ve been more specific. Then Clint’s moving a little slower, tongue tracing a long, slow line up his leaking dick.

_It’s only our third date_ , Bucky thinks, and has a sudden urge to laugh. He has distant memories of taking someone on a third date---Jo Ellen, he thinks, all curly red hair and green eyes---and how proper they’d been together. He never would’ve imagined, seventy years ago, that he’d be doing anything like this.

Or doing any _one_ like this, because he never imagined he’d be so lucky as to have someone like Clint either.

“More,” he says, arching up. “More, more---”

“I’m working on it,” Clint says, warm amusement in his tone. “Be patient. Maybe I like you like this.”

“You’re a sadist,” Bucky tells him.

“Nah.” Clint sucks a kiss into his thigh, hard enough to bruise. Bucky hopes it does---he wants to look at it later, think about Clint leaving marks on him, tangible proof that he’s wanted, even if just for the night. “You just sound so pretty, Buck. How can I not want to keep this going?”

Bucky makes a response halfway between a moan and a gasp as Clint’s fingers slip a little lower, playing with his balls as he finally takes Bucky into his mouth, sucking lightly around the head. “Like that?” he asks, pulling back off. “That what you wanted?”

“Yes,” Bucky gasps, pulling at the ropes around his wrists. “Yes, _please_ \---”

“Whoops,” Clint says, and there’s a shifting of weight. “Forgot this.”

“Do you need that?”

“No, but it’s fun.”

“Sticky,” Bucky says, squirming again as Clint drizzles chocolate over him, thin lines over his dick and thighs and hips. It’s followed by his tongue again, long slow swipes, and _fuck_ it’s so much hotter than Bucky would’ve imagined. He didn’t know he was into this, honestly, but he so is. He _so_ is. The worst part is, they have more meetings tomorrow, and that means he has to sit there and watch Clint chew on his pens again, and he’s just going to spend the whole time thinking of _this_ \---

“It is sticky,” Clint agrees. “We can shower after.”

“ _Hnngh_ ,” Bucky says, melting a little at the thought of Clint’s hands in his hair, and rubbing slick soap down his body, and how close they’ll have to get in Clint’s tiny little bathroom---

“Down, boy,” Clint says with a laugh. “Okay. We can do that.” He wraps his hand around Bucky’s dick, rubbing just under the head with his thumb, and then adds, “But I think there was something else you wanted me to do first.”

“Yes,” Bucky breathes, pushing up into his hand. It’s too loose for any real friction, but it’s something, and he thinks he honestly might implode if he has to wait too much longer. “Yes, yes, _please_ \---”

“Easy,” Clint says. “I got you, babe. I’m gonna take care of you.”

“I know you will,” Bucky says, voice strained. “But could you maybe do it faster?”

Clint laughs again, rich and warm, and he rubs a soothing circle on Bucky’s thigh. “Yeah,” he says. “Okay. I got you. Just relax.”

“Okay,” Bucky manages, and he relaxes into the bed, giving himself over to the sensations. Everything is heightened under the blindfold, like his sense of touch has been multiplied by a thousand. He can feel every one of Clint’s calloused fingertips, the wet heat of his mouth, the way his hands are skimming over Bucky’s body---

He’s been hovering on the edge for hours, it feels like, and so it doesn’t take much more to push him over. He gasps sharply, feeling static electricity spark up and down his spine, shivering relentlessly as Clint takes him apart, working him through it, murmuring encouragement into his skin.

He floats for a bit, finally coming back to himself as Clint tugs the blindfold off. “Hey,” he murmurs, offering what’s probably a dopey smile. “That was nice.”

Nice is an understatement, but Clint must get the gist of it, because he returns the smile and brushes Bucky’s hair out of his face. “Good,” he says quietly. “Glad to hear it.” He leans down and kisses Bucky, soft and easy. “You wanna be untied?”

“In a minute,” Bucky says. “I just---give me a sec.”

“Okay.” He reaches over and picks up the bottle of chocolate sauce, which is balancing precariously next to Bucky’s leg. “This was a good idea. How’d you come up with it?”

“You,” Bucky says. “Watching you chew on those damn pens all day.”

“Yeah? That turn you on?”

“Kinda. Made me think about your mouth, at least. And other things you could be doin’ with it.”

Clint grins. “You know we got meetings all day tomorrow.”

“I know,” Bucky says.

“And I got more pens.”

“I _know_ ,” Bucky says again. “Trust me. I know.”

The grin gets wider. “Maybe we oughta get it out of your system now.”

Bucky tilts his head. “Meaning?”

“Meaning we still got half a thing of this left.” He holds up the bottle. “And the time to use it.”

Bucky looks at him, and then at the bottle. “This is a hell of a third date,” he says. “A little outside tradition.”

“I’ve never been one for tradition,” Clint says with a shrug. His smile takes on a wicked edge. “You in for another round?”

Bucky looks down at his dick---something something super-soldier refractory periods, he’s already ready to go---and nods. “Hell yeah,” he says, his own mouth curving in a smile as Clint picks up the blindfold again. “I’m in.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on [tumblr!](https://feedmecookiesnow.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Beta'ed as always by the lovely [clintscoffeepot](https://clintscoffeepot.tumblr.com/). Thank you!


End file.
